


i’ll go if you go, if you’re cool with that

by cori_the_bloody



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 02, the tenderness of running errands with friends amirite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29978289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cori_the_bloody/pseuds/cori_the_bloody
Summary: Annie stares into the tiny, fogged-up mirror in her tiny, fogged-up bathroom and groans. The orange paint is proving a more formidable opponent than The Black Rider.She has one last line of defense, though.
Relationships: Shirley Bennett & Annie Edison & Britta Perry
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	i’ll go if you go, if you’re cool with that

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bethanyactually](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethanyactually/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Bethany! You've been enriching my fandom experiences and my life more generally with your kindness for approximately six years now. I love you! I celebrate you! And I hope you feel loved and celebrated - always, but especially today!
> 
> Oh, and by the way, thanks for betaing your own birthday fic. Unsurprisingly, it's better because of you. 💜

Annie stares into the tiny, fogged-up mirror in her tiny, fogged-up bathroom and groans. The orange paint is proving a more formidable opponent than The Black Rider.

She has one last line of defense, though. With a frown, she pads out into her room and grabs her phone off her nightstand.

_You’ve probably had a bad experience coloring your hair_ , she texts Britta.

Britta texts back back an obscene number of question marks.

_Just curious what you used to get your hair back to normal. I’m desperate_.

It takes Britta longer to text back this time. Annie’s pulled on yoga pants and a Greendale t-shirt, as well as put her kettle on to boil, before her phone chimes with an incoming message.

_copy that_ , Britta’s text reads. _be there in 15._

###

“Oh,” Annie says, stopping a few feet away from Britta’s car when she notices Shirley in the front seat.

“I know you don’t mean to sound so disappointed that I’ve actually been invited to one of your little mall outings,” Shirley says, raising an eyebrow.

“Is that where we’re going?” Annie asks, hesitating before she climbs in the back. “Should I change?”

“Nah,” Britta says, flipping her visor back up after fussing over her eyeliner in the mirror. “We’re going to Target.”

“Oh,” Annie says again, finally sliding inside the car.

“That’s fine,” Shirley says. “Don’t all rush to contradict me.”

“Good to see you, Shirley,” Annie says, rolling her eyes.

“Shirley texted me about needing detergent at the same time you did,” Britta says, pulling away from the building too fast and without checking to see if there’s oncoming traffic. Annie grabs onto her seatbelt with both hands and grips tight.

Shirley shakes her head. “I’m gonna be washing paint out of my clothes ‘til Judgement Day.”

“I haven’t even thought about washing my shirt yet,” Annie says with a dejected sigh. “I’m probably better off throwing it away.”

“Probably,” Shirley and Britta agree in unison.

Annie smiles, relaxing in her seat. If she closes her eyes, she can even convince herself that this is just a regular day. That they might all show up to school tomorrow with their little family still intact.

###

“So, what do you need while we’re here?” Annie asks Britta as she plucks a basket from the stand by the front door.

“Oh, I don’t shop here,” Britta says. “There’s a convenience store near my house.”

“Oh-kay…”

“It’s important to support local businesses, y’know? Otherwise there’ll be nothing standing between Corporate America and their mission to suck the soul out of every minimum-wage worker.”

Shirley catches her eye with a knowing look, and Annie has to hold in a giggle.

“Totally,” she says. “You refusing to shop at Target is the one thing standing between late-stage capitalism and world destruction.”

“Of course,” Shirley adds politely.

Britta doesn’t seem to clock that they’re poking fun at her. She simply shrugs and starts heading in the direction of cleaning supplies. “Got any plans for the summer?”

“We’re signing the boys up for a summer session of karate,” Shirley says, tucking her purse between her chest and the handle of her cart as she pushes it forward. “Oh, and my church always has the best Fourth of July bake sale, so I’m gonna spend some time in June trying out new brownie recipes. You guys can come be my taste testers if you want.” She turns a hopeful smile on Annie.

“As long as you don’t, like, bake Bible verses into them or whatever,” Britta says.

Shirley blinks, clearly intrigued by the idea.

“I’m free,” Annie says cheerfully, turning down the laundry aisle. “Every day after three, anyway. I’m putting in some volunteer hours down at the Greendale Veterans Hospital.”

“Well, tell the war criminals I said _hey_ ,” Britta says.

“Sure,” Annie says dryly. “Right after I advise them to shop local.”

“Good luck with that,” Britta says with a snort. “If they joined the imperialist war machine, I’m pretty sure they don’t care about the poor immigrants just trying to feed their families.”

Annie sighs.

“And what about you, Brit-ta?” Shirley asks, hefting a couple jugs of detergent into her cart and saving Annie the trouble of finding something to say to that.

Britta winces as she takes a whiff of some fabric softener, replacing it on the shelf as she says, “I dunno. Working. I’ll do some traveling. Not sure where yet, though. Hey, would one of you want to watch my cats?”

“Oh, sure,” Shirley says. “I’m only raising two kids on a shoestring budget. Let’s add some geriatric cats to the mix.”

“You could have just said no,” Britta says.

“I know. But that was more fun.”

Britta shakes her head, turning to Annie. “You in?”

She racks her brain for any plausible excuse and comes up empty. “Yeah,” she says finally. “I could do that.”

“Cool. I’ll pay you.”

“No, you won’t,” Annie says, leading the way to the shampoo aisle. “But that’s okay. Your apartment is marginally safer than mine. It’s actually kind of nice, getting to stay there.”

Shirley _hmm_ s. “Maybe you can add moving to your summer plans.”

“If I had the money to afford another place, maybe…”

“Why not join Troy over at Pierce’s place?” Britta suggests, and then her words seem to catch up to her. She shudders. “Scratch that. I think I’d rather live _inside_ Dildopolis than with Pierce.”

“Knowing that man, there’s probably not much difference,” Shirley says, adding a package of cotton balls to her cart as they pass them.

“Do you guys really think he’s done with us?” Annie asks, her voice small.

Shirley snorts. “We should be so lucky.”

“We damaged his pride one too many times,” Britta says. “I think maybe it’s really the end.”

“Yeah.” Annie comes to a stop, letting her empty basket bang at her shins. “I was afraid of that.”

“You’re really upset about it?” Britta asks as she scans the shelves of shampoo, looking for something.

“You’re really not?” Annie counters.

“I guess it hasn’t completely sunk in yet. Maybe I’ll be more upset in, like, a week.”

Annie grunts.

Shirley comes up and wraps an arm around her waist. “There are too many good things to look forward to for you to spend so much time feeling sorry for that man. He made his choice, Annie.”

“I guess that’s kind of the problem,” Annie says. “It was one thing when we were voting and I knew how to fight against it. But now it’s his choice, and there’s nothing I can do.”

“Sometimes you just have to let people go,” Shirley says sagely.

And she’s right, Annie knows she’s right. So she nods, even though she still feels like stomping her feet and throwing a fit.

“There,” Britta says, dumping three different bottles into Annie’s basket without warning and making her lose her grip. It falls on her toes, making her whimper. “Oops,” Britta adds. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Annie says, stooping to pick it up. “Thanks for your help.”

Britta nods. “One of those should do the trick. And then that conditioner is all natural, so it’ll counteract all the chemicals in those mass-produced shampoos.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Annie says, plucking the conditioner out of the basket and turning it over.

Britta shrugs, unbothered.

Annie trails behind her and Shirley to the register as she reads. With a _huh_ of interest, she replaces it in her basket. If nothing else, she does like the smell of peppermint.

“Do you want us to come over and help?” Britta asks.

“I think I can wash my own hair, Britta.”

Shirley glances at her as she sets her detergent up on the conveyor belt, eyes roving over her scalp. “I wouldn’t get too snooty.”

Annie’s hand flies up to her hair. “There’s not _that much_ left.”

“Uh-huh,” Shirley says.

Britta does a bad job of suppressing a grin. “Sure.”

“I’ve got it,” Annie insists testily. A moment later, though, she says, “If I text you later, though…?”

“My shift starts at seven,” Britta says, grin getting bigger. “But anytime before then.”

“Thanks.”

A few minutes later, while Annie’s paying for her shampoo, Britta says, “I do have something I wanna grab, actually. I’ll be right back.”

Shirley tuts as Britta takes off. “Of course she waits for the most inconsiderate moment.”

Annie nods, accepting her bag from the cashier.

Mercifully, it only takes Britta a few minutes to grab whatever it is she’s after and move her way through the self-checkout.

“What was so important to make you contribute to the sucking of that poor girl’s soul?” Shirley asks, nodding at their cashier.

“Was low on condoms,” Britta says, flashing the box at them.

Shirley’s nostrils flare.

“And I wanted to see you make that face at me,” Britta says, pointing with a triumphant grin.

Annie can’t help the laugh that escapes her, and Shirley turns the incensed expression on her.

“Sorry!” Annie says. “But that was a good joke, actually.”

Shirley turns away from them, heading for the parking lot as she shakes her head. “I’m sure Satan would agree.”

“Oh, my god,” Britta says.

“She’s definitely finding a way to put a Bible verse in your brownie,” Annie says.

Britta looks horrified, but only for a second. “Eh, I’ll eat it anyway.”

With a giggle, Annie hooks her arm through Britta’s and they start off after Shirley. And for a moment, it really does feel like there’s too much good ahead of her to waste time being sad.


End file.
